Pilgrim Notes

Reflections along the way.

Page 8 of 72

Singing Peace to the Neighborhood

Los Lobos

Los Lobos

The_Neighborhood_-_Los_LobosReleased in 1990, Los Lobos’ album “The Neighborhood” continues to sing peace into the community.The themes  that highlight this album have resounded across the 40 year span that Los Lobos has been singing, performing and producing albums. They sing about living in a family, a community, a culture. Though considered a Chicano rock band, their music draws sounds from folk, rock, rhythm & blues, bayou, country, and soul not to mention Spanish and Mexican sounds. Their sound and their words bring together a rang of characters and sounds in a common celebration.

For the last several months, I’ve been listening to “The Neighborhood” almost every day as I walk through my neighborhood. The music still sounds as fresh as the day I first heard in the early 1990s. And the words still provoke my heart to pray that the Lord will “bring peace to the neighborhood.” The title sounds repeats the refrain as a litany,

Thank you Lord for another day
Help my brother along his way
And please bring peace to the Neighborhood

This prayer appears in a song that highlights the pain and brokenness of the neighborhood. The songs finds a brother looking for trouble, a sister rocking her new baby, a father drinking whiskey in his chair, and a mother working nine to five and hardly “making enough to keep alive,” but praying with tears in her eyes,

Thank you Lord for another day
Help my brother along his way
And please bring peace to the Neighborhood
Grant us all peace and serenity
They’re just songs sung on a dirty street
Echoes of hope lie beneath their feet
Struggling hard to make ends meet

These prayers, these songs echo hope in the midst of a messy and broken world. I cannot but help think of the people of God revealed in the Torah praying for and bringing blessing to the world around them. If we follow the story of Abraham, Izaak, Jacob and Joseph, we see each of these men contributing to the flourishing of their surrounding cultures. They bring blessings. Their blessings are not limited to their ethnic group, they bring blessing to the world around them.

The Lord tells Abraham that through him all the families of the earth will be blessed. Abraham even prays for mercy over Sodom and Gomorrah when judgment is at hand. Joseph acts to bless Potiphar’s house and later to bless Pharaoh’s house and all of Egypt. Later Moses commands Israel to care for the sojourner and the stranger at the gate. Hospitality is celebrated all through the Old and New Testament.

This takes me back to Los Lobos. They direct our eyes to the people living in the community. In “The Neighborhood” they sing about families, young lovers, parties, troubled hearts, those struggling with depression, broken relationships, struggle and joy. They sing a song of praise about a boy with limitations, calling him “Little John of God.” In their songs, I hear a reminder that echoes back from ancient Israel: bless the world around you, be present to the world around you, offer yourself in love to serve the world around you, and ask God’s blessings upon the world around you. Their song “The Giving Tree” captures this spirit of love and grace that permeates the music:

A warm wind is blowing through the valleys and the mountain tops
Down the road to a place we know so well
The children are running with ribbons in their baby hands
While we all gather ’round the Giving Tree

Let’s go sing songs, the blue ones
Let’s go sing about the Lord above
And thank the old sun for all we have
The sad times, the glad times
The babies swinging in our arms
Just don’t seem like much like rain ’round the Giving Tree

Like the shedherds once followed a star bright up in the sky
We’ve come to say, come be with us know
Come give us a good one
Come give us a happy time
While we all here dance ’round the Giving Tree

 

Image by Dena Flows (used by Creative Commons Permission via Flickr)

The Beautiful Beloved

aged

“There is the great lesson of ‘Beauty and the Beast,’ that a thing must be loved before it is lovable.”
― G.K. Chesterton

Chesterton articulates a Gospel-shaped wisdom: love makes lovable. The Lord loved us even when we were enemies (Romans 5:8). His love transforms us into friends (John 15:15) and then to lovers (1 John 4:11). God’s love toward us in Christ is what makes us beloved. We are beautiful because we are loved by the true lover. In the opening pages of Genesis, we hear the Creator repeatedly proclaim over His creation, “It is good!”

We live in an age when the word “good” seems a bit devalued. To help us get a sense of its richness, we might consider the implications of the Hebrew word (towb) for good used in Genesis 1. “Towb” can mean good, merry, prosperous, precious, beautiful, favored, and more. The Lord delights in His good creation. After sin has scarred the world, He loves His creation so completely that the He overcomes the corruption of sin in and through His Son Jesus Christ. This is the same love of Christ that is transforming us into His image.

Even as we speak of becoming His image, we hear His call, “Love one another as I have loved you.” In this new command, we see a fulfilling of the old commands: honor your father and mother, do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not kill, do not steal, do not bear false witness, do not covet. Each of these commands are rooted in proper love to parent, sibling/neighbor, and spouse. As Christ restores His image in us, we are reordered to love properly. In turn, the object of love becomes lovable.

Humans struggle to love enemy and family alike. We fail to love those close to us because we no longer see their loveliness: many adult children disrespect their aging parents, many spouses fail to see the beauty of their once beloved. In Christ, the command to love precedes the vision of beauty. We love first, then we behold the lovely. This act of loving changes us. As C.S. Lewis writes,

“Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him.”
― C.S. Lewis

We act in love, trusting that the vision of love and the affection of love will follow. We follow Christ and by His Spirit we honor our parents, our spouses, our neighbors. In His love, we begin to see again, and though the people surrounding us are still imperfect, we learn to see the mystery and wonder and goodness of His creation in them.

* Image by Vinoth Chandar. Used by permission via Creative Commons.

Hearing Stories in Torah

Story-telling
Stories are an irreducible part of the way we understand and talk about our world. We are all natural storytellers, story-thinkers, story-actors, and story-listeners. Stories are one of the ways that the Lord addresses us and calls us to respond.

The Lord created humans with the ability to hear, see, smell, taste, and touch. Corresponding with these outward physical senses, we also think, imagine, feel emotions, and decide. He addresses us and calls us to respond on all levels. Thus when the Lord addresses each of us, He addresses the whole person. As Hans Urs Von Balthasar writes,

“For man in the Old Testament, the only possible encounter with God is one which involves the whole person. The Jew does not distinguish here between spirit and sensibility, soul and body. He is approached and summoned by God as a whole person, and it is as a whole person that he must answer.”[1]

When we reading the opening texts of the Bible, we encounter songs, stories, laws, genealogies, and more. We are invited into a multi-dimensional world that requires us to listen and respond with our whole person. In Ralph Smith’s helpful article on meditation, he discusses the role of story in this rich Biblical world.  Smith writes,

Our worldviews, in other words, are story-haunted. Stories are lurking beneath the surface and behind the scenes of every event and action in our lives, even every word we speak. In the nature of the case, this is no less true for ancient Israelites than for modern men. Thus, the narrative approach to worldview questions that characterized Paul was not original with him. It is typical of all the authors of Scripture beginning with Moses. What this means for Torah is obvious. Moses wrote laws and history that are haunted by the stories that preceded them. Virtually every law in the book of Deuteronomy presupposes, alludes to, recalls, reflects on, or inescapably reminds readers of stories in Genesis to Numbers.[2]

As we read Scripture, we should take time to soak in the stories. Read and read stories. Follow the stories throughout the whole Scripture. For instance, if I am reading the creation story in Genesis 1 and 2, it might help me to reflect on the rhythms of Genesis 1 and 2 by reading how the rest of Scripture references this vital story.  The book of Hebrews present God as a Masterbuilder of Creation. In Job, the Lord points to wonders of His creation to challenge Job’s limited view of him. In Jeremiah, the Lord reminds the lamenting prophet that He is creator and sustainer of the world.

As you read, pause and listen. Soak in the story. Let it fill your imagination. Use your sense if possible. Ask questions of the text. Look for patterns that repeat in various stories. Through His Word, the Lord is training our whole person to be attuned to His instruction and His faithful love.

[1] Hans Urs Von Balthasar. The Glory of the Lord, a Theological Aesthetics I: Seeing the Form. Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 2009 (p. 253).
[2] Ralph Smith. “Law and History: How to Read the Law of Moses.” Trinity House Institute, 3/11/13 <http://trinityhouseinstitute.com/law-and-history-how-to-read-the-law-of-moses/>

 

Wounds of Love

Grunewald_Isenheim1a

On Good Friday, we come to cross of Christ. We behold one stricken, smitten, and afflicted. As we look upon the broken body of our Savior, we behold our own broken and wounded lives. Each of us bears the scars of a world reeling from the curse of sin.

I have a scar on my left pinkie finger that dates back to my early childhood. Somehow I got my hand on a razor when taking a bath and nearly sliced the finger off. Though I faintly remember the accident, the scar remains. For all the scars we can see, there are many more we cannot see.

Wounds that damage our body and soul leave marks that are often permanent. Some wounds happen in an instant. Just as the razor scarred my finger for life, so a word, a tone, an act can traumatize in a moment. An angry word spoken in haste may leave a permanent, unseen mark on the heart.

We bear the mark of sin. It damages the heart, the mind, the emotions and even the body. We bear marks caused by the sin of others. We bear marks caused by our sin. Most of these marks we do not readily see. Yet they persist, impacting our perception of the world around us, impacting our perception of our self, impacting our perception of God.

Sin is not simply failing to do the right thing or choosing to do the wrong thing. Sin is the unraveling of God’s good creation. We are caught up in this unraveling. We contribute to this unraveling. We live in a good world gone wrong.

Grunewald_Isenheim1On this Good Friday, on this Holy Day of Days, we behold the One who steps into this world gone wrong with unrelenting love. He bears the marks of our broken hearts.

We behold His grief, and see our hidden silent grief.

We behold His affliction, and see the affliction that paralyzes us.

We behold His scars, and know that we ourselves are scarred.

As we behold our Savior, we come to see our desperate need for healing, cleansing, restoration. We realize that the wounds of sin have crippled us. We realize that we ourselves have repeated this pattern of damage by hurting others in word and act.

As behold our Savior, we behold the wounds of love. For His scars reveal the glory of God in the midst of a broken world. God’s relentless love will not allow sin to unravel this good and wondrous creation. Jesus bears the sin’s sting of death. In Him alone the cursed power of sin is unraveled. His Love bears all the destruction, hate, deception, abuse, violence, and hatred that sin releases. His Love bears it all continues to forgive,

“Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

We come on this Good Friday and behold the Glory of God in the cross of Christ.  On this mountain of mercy, we behold our hope. We behold the promise that these scars in soul and body have been taken up into God’s redeeming love. In Christ, these scars will shine with His glory, His love, His victory.

 

Curses into Blessings

bless

9 The sons of Eliab were Nemuel, Dathan, and Abiram. These are the Dathan and Abiram, representatives of the congregation, who contended against Moses and Aaron in the company of Korah, when they contended against the Lord; 10 and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up together with Korah when that company died, when the fire devoured two hundred and fifty men; and they became a sign. 11 Nevertheless the children of Korah did not die. (Numbers 26:9-11)

This little passage appears in a larger passage listing the various names of fathers and sons in various tribes. In the middle of the extensive list, a reference appears to the rebellion against Moses in Numbers 16:

Now Korah the son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi, with Dathan and Abiram the sons of Eliab, and On the son of Peleth, sons of Reuben, took men; 2 and they rose up before Moses with some of the children of Israel, two hundred and fifty leaders of the congregation, representatives of the congregation, men of renown. (Numbers 16:1-2)

In the end of the story, God brings judgment upon the families and the earth swallows them:

31 Now it came to pass, as he finished speaking all these words, that the ground split apart under them, 32 and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up, with their households and all the men with Korah, with all their goods. 33 So they and all those with them went down alive into the pit; the earth closed over them, and they perished from among the assembly. 34 Then all Israel who were around them fled at their cry, for they said, “Lest the earth swallow us up also!”  35 And a fire came out from the Lord and consumed the two hundred and fifty men who were offering incense. (Number 16:31-35)

Now we learn in Numbers 26 that God had mercy on them and didn’t remove their family line from the earth. (11 Nevertheless the children of Korah did not die. Numbers 26:11). Later in the Psalms, we’ll discover a range of Psalms attributed to the sons of Korah (Psalms 42–49; 84; 85; 87; 88). What began as a curse later becomes a blessings and the sons of Korah (the sons of rebellion) become singers in the house of the Lord.

This reversal from curse to blessing is similar to a reversal of Jacob’s curse upon Reuben:

“Reuben, you are my firstborn,
My might and the beginning of my strength,
The excellency of dignity and the excellency of power.
Unstable as water, you shall not excel,
Because you went up to your father’s bed;
Then you defiled it
He went up to my couch. (Genesis 49:3-4)

But centuries later, Moses will offer God’s blessing upon Reuben:

6 “Let Reuben live, and not die,
Nor let his men be few.” (Deuteronomy 33:6)

Some of the rebels mentioned in Numbers 16 (Dathan and Abiram the sons of Eliab) were sons of Reuben. God in his mercy does not blot out Reuben’s line, but pronounces life and not death.

Mercy and grace appear all through Torah. Though men and women break God’s law and come under curses, again and again and again, we behold the Lord showing “hesed” and turning curses into blessings.

* Image by Anthony Posey used by permission (per Creative Commons)

Praise is a Language

children_singing

I’ve been thinking of the praise as a language that we must learn to speak. It is not simply a matter of learning to be grateful, it is tuning our ear and mouth to sound God’s praise. The Psalms teach us how to speak the language of praise or the grammar of praise.

Think of a child learning to speak. According to some theories, the child is born with the ability to make all the sounds for all the languages of the world.* The child must learn which sounds not to make. As his parents speak, the child hears the sounds of his language. He learns which sounds to use and which sounds are not used. Over time, he learns to mimic the sounds of his parents, speaking words. Making mistakes. Correcting. Improving. Then he gradually learns how words work together. He learns this socially in a family, in a classroom, in church and later in life in a business. Every time we enter a new social circle, we may learn new patterns, new constructions of meaning, and possibly even new sounds.

As we read and sing the Psalms in community, we are learning the sounds, the words, the grammar of praise that can shape our speech in thanksgiving, praise, supplication, and even lamentation.

* – Thanks to Madalena Cruz-Ferreira’s article on “Child Language Acquisition” at The Linguist List and Carol Bainbridge’s article “How Do Children Learn Language?” at About.com.

Learning to Speak Torah

child_speaking
In Deuteronomy, we hear how Torah shapes listening, speaking and acting. Listen to the Shema,

4 “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. 5 You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. 6 And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. 7 You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. 8 You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.[1]

The first response of Israel to the Lord is “Hear.” Hearing gives way to loving, living, teaching. The parent resounds the call of the Lord to their children, and in turn, the children resound the call to their children. Torah shapes our speech. By rehearsing the Word of the Lord, the people of God learn how to speak, how to articulate life and wisdom and love in the world. Just as a child mimics her mother in learning to speak, the children of the Lord learn how to speak by mimicng, rehearsing His Word.

This rehearsing, this sounding out, changes us. Train us in listening, speaking and acting. St. Hilary offers a helpful prayer asking for grace to speak the articulate word,

‘Almighty God, bestow upon us the meaning of words, the light of understanding, the nobility of diction, and the faith of the true nature. And grant that what we believe we may also speak.’ – St.Hilary, The Trinity (de Trinitate, PL 10, 49)

[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Dt 6:4–8). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

Image from hoveringdog on Flickr (used by Creative Commons)

The Resounding Rejoice!

wiseman

It’s mid January, but my house looks like Christmas is just around the corner. The bureau in my front room is covered with a porcelain re-creation of the birth of Christ. Nativities appear in almost every room. At the end of my driveway, antiqued copper statues of this ancient vigil stand in silent witness. Shepherds kneel, Wise Men behold, Joseph protects, Mary ponders, and Jesus gleams. O Holy Night continues to shine throughout the house.

Epiphany texts follow Jesus walking and preaching along the shores of Galilee. I’m still standing in Bethlehem, dwelling in the echo of the angels’, “Rejoice!” Heaven’s address continues to resound.

I think about how the word meets each person where they are. Gabriel comes to Mary’s home in Nazareth with the word “Rejoice!” In the depths of sleep, Joseph meets an angelic messenger. Glory shines all around while shepherds watch their flocks. A star glistens into the homelands of the Wise Men, leading them to the birth of the King who will rule over all. Herod, the king of Israel, sees no angel, has no dream, sees no glory, and does not recognize the star. He hears the good news of great joy from this wise group of Gentile stargazers.

“Rejoice!” breaks into the life of each person with terrifying wonder. Often the word, “Do not fear” accompanies this good news of great joy. “Rejoice!” comes with joy and terror intertwined.

“Rejoice!” sounds an alarm, calling the slumbering soul to action. Wake up!

Makes me think of a poem by Rumi.
I called through your door, “The mystics are gathering in the street. Come out!”
“Leave me alone. I’m sick.”
“I don’t care if you’re dead!’
“Jesus is here,
and he wants to
resurrect somebody!”
-Rumi [1]

“Rejoice!” comes as a sudden surprise, altering everything. Those who follow can’t go back. As Bob Dylan sings, You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way.”[2] Mary and Joseph can’t come back. They begin a journey that takes them far from the comfort of the Nazareth. The wise man cannot return by the same way, but must go another way.

T.S. Eliot wonders if they ever really could return home:

“We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.” [3]

“Rejoice!” changes the language. The ancient Hebrew address “Shalom!” becomes “Rejoice!” The long-awaited One has come and everything is different. Words change. Worlds change. Kings and kingdoms topple.

“Rejoice!” is not simply a call to behold life, it is a call to enter death. The echo sounds like “Repent.” The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Let go of the old world, the old dispensation and walk forward into the Kingdom of God.

The Nativity continues to hold my attention even as I read about Jesus healing the sick, raising the dead, and proclaiming the Kingdom Come. This juxtaposition reminds me that the unbelievable Good News of God coming comes to each of us, where we are, in words and signs that we can hear, compelling us to behold our Savior and “Rejoice!

[1] Coleman Barks (translator), Jalal al-Din Rumi. The Essential Rumi – reissue: New Expanded Edition (Kindle Locations 3318-3319). HarperOne, Kindle Edition, 2010.
[2] Bob Dylan. “Mississippi.” From Love and Theft, 1997.
[3] T.S. Eliot. “The Journey of the Magi.” from Collected Poems 1909-1962 (Faber, 1974)

Confession at Christmas

nativity

The coffee shop streams with people coming and going this cool December morning on the last day of 2012. The lady to my left works a crossword puzzle. The couple to my right discusses the political anger that seems to abound in our culture. One girl reads her Bible. One couple quietly communicates with hand gestures back and forth, back and forth.  A lady in the corner sits in front of her computer, looking at her iPhone and listening to something (music or otherwise) on her bright red headphones. I love the color red.

Barristas scurry from sink to coffee machine to cash register. All the while swapping stories, sharing smiles and greeting incoming customers. The room buzzes with a white noise that helps quiet me as I read and pray.

The opening sentence in the Daily Office for today reads, “Behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10, 11)

I sit back and reread these words.

“Behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10, 11)

Again.

“Behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10, 11)

I keep hearing the words from Pope Benedict XVI in his book, “Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives.” He points out that the angel addresses Mary with the Greek word “chaire instead of the Hebrew word “shalom.” This Greek word means “Rejoice.” Benedict writes,

“Joy appears in these texts as the particular gift of the Holy Spirit, the true gift of the Redeemer. So a chord is sounded with the angel’s salutation which then resounds throughout the life of the Church. Its content is also present in the fundamental word that serves to designate the entire Christian message: Gospel— good news.”[1]

I am struck by the immediacy of the address. The angel address Mary and the shepherds with this immediate command. “Rejoice.” Today, this very moment, heaven has broken into earth. Christ is come. The world is changed. Rejoice! In the words of the Apostle Paul, “Today is the day of salvation!” Today.

This word jolts me awake. For the Good News has come to me here, this moment at Starbucks, in the midst of many movements, I am stilled by the Word that raises my soul to life. “Rejoice!” Even as I rejoice, I hear the call to confession.

“Let us confess our sins against God and our neighbor.”

Here is my feeble confession to the Good News that is too good to be true but still is true:

Lord I confess I am dead to the life-shattering news of Emmanuel.

I confess I my ears have been dulled by the distracting roar of my heart’s strivings for vain pursuits and I have failed to hear the Good News.

I confess that I’ve been blinded by lesser lights and I have failed to behold your Glorious Light and my desperate darkness.

I confess that I’ve reduced the coming of our Lord to a distant event in the ancient past or uncertain future, and I have failed to realize that Christ is come today and today is the day of salvation.

I confess that the Good News fails to echo in my soul with the fire of joy, so my joy dissipates in lesser loves and momentary delights.

Lord have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Lord have mercy.

Fire my soul, my mind, my heart, my body with the news that is ever New and the Word that is ever Present. In your grace, let me hear and respond to this Word Today, to the birth of Jesus, the One who lived, died and rose again. To the Lord Jesus Christ who ever intercedes for me and all creation before the Father in heaven. To the Savior Who is present by His Spirit and is Filling all things to the Fullness of Your Glory.

[1] Pope Benedict XVI (2012-11-21). Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives (Kindle Locations 369-372). Image. Kindle Edition.

Image thanks to Avondale Pattillo UMC via Creative Commons.

Night Divine

winternightbw

During Advent we remember that the darkness of winter’s arrival is pierced with the Light of Life. Advent holds together ending and beginning, death and life, dark and light. Yet, this is not a balance of opposites. It is a living hope in the midst of a dying world.

In winter, the world comes undone. Spring’s blossoms have long died away. Icy dark nights overtake autumn’s afternoon. Snow covers the land and trees. This winter wonderland is beautiful…and deadly. Most of us live insulated from this threatening freeze, but the dark, cold night looms near us all.

I know the fear of waking in the death of night. Darkness presses heavy upon my chest. Sickening dread grips my throat and tightens my stomach. The specters of hopelessness haunt me. This present darkness sometimes escapes the witching hours, creeping into day. I wake to a world cringing in yet another nightmare.

Darkness, darkness, thick darkness covers the face of the earth. Whether it is the rage of war, the horror of violent crime, the suffocating poison of unspeakable speech, or the smothering night that grips the soul, darkness can seem more real than light.

Evil, evil, thick evil catches us unaware. Once I casually reached for a music magazine, flipping through the pages in search of the latest album reviews. A story of torture and violence interrupted the search. My pulse quickened. My body tensed. Night’s dread drowned the music.

Why? Why are humans so evil?

That question is dangerous. The prophet says, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”[1] Even as we question and wrestle with the horror of evil in our world, we also walk in darkness. The Apostle John says, “The people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. .”[2]

Those who have choked on darkness know a raging darkness within that terrifies more than the darkness without.

This is the great unspeakable truth that Advent exposes. The darkness within. We run from the light. We hide in the dark. Then we look at the evil in the world and question, “Why?”

The line of evil runs directly through the human heart.

Into this darkness, Light shines. Advent celebrates the night-shattering news that God is with us. Christ has come near. We sing of the blessed birth of the Lord in the Holy Night and Night Divine. He penetrates the dark night of human evil. Even the night is not night to Him. The Psalmist sings,

11 “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.[3]

Jesus the Light of the World entered into the dark night of humanity. He exposed evil in us and around us. In His life, death and resurrection, He also overcame it. We wait for the full unveiling of His Light when death will die and the full Light of day will permanently overtake the night of evil.

Emmanuel, God with us, calls us to reveal the Light of His love in the midst of this dark age. Like Peter on the water, we may grow fearful and sink in dark waters. He is Present and we are safe.

Those dark waters make me think of swimming in the ocean with my dad one summer. On our last day of summer vacation, we went down to the ocean for one last swim. The storm clouds threatened on the horizon. My dad was not afraid. We road the humongous waves together. We played in the dark waters. I was not afraid because my dad was with me.

My mom frantically waved for us to come back to shore. As we headed toward shore, the undertow pulled us back. We struggled against the flow. For a moment, the waves threatened and overwhelmed me. I was not afraid because my dad was with me.

The darkness of our world threatens. Evil rages. We want to rage back. Our own echoing rage cannot stop the dark. Only the Light of His Love can overcome the dark. He is Present in the dark. Even as we wait and watch, He is here. Emmanuel. O Holy Night. O Night Divine.

Though the storms of evil rage, He is Present. We can love and even laugh, knowing that the undertow of evil will not overcome the Light of His Presence.

During these final moments of Advent waiting, during these dark hours of winter’s undoing, let us remember that His Light. He overcomes the evil within and the evil without. We follow Him into the dark waters of our world, into the pain, into the hurt, and into the fear, trusting in His Light of Love, Peace and Life Unconquerable.

[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Is 9:2). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.
[2] ibid. (Jn 3:19).
[3] ibid. (Ps 139:11–12).

Note: Image by Sigurd R (used by Creative Commons permission).

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2024 Pilgrim Notes

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑